Wildflower (12 page)

“Thank you, I appreciate your courtesy,” Dad said to John and Ann as he grabbed his wife’s hand and left the study.

“I think you’re being unreasonable, Peter. Why can’t you just let it go? Is it really that hard to forgive Baby?” Richard asked.

Peter bent down and pulled up his pants leg.  He unlatched his prosthesis from below the knee, raised it up high then slammed it onto the table with his shoe still attached, jarring the contents of the table upon impact.  John and Jess gasped loudly, appearing astonished at the revelation that Peter wore a prosthesis.  Not too many things surprised Idris — he was only startled by the loud noise the slam created.  Everybody else knew Peter had a prosthesis. They were alarmed only because he had taken it off and put it on display — he had always been self-conscious about it.

Peter stared across the table at Richard, then at Preston.  He looked at Iris and then turned his attention back to Richard.

“This is why,” Peter exclaimed.  “Every morning when I put this on,” he shook the leg in the air, “I’m reminded of it.  And every evening,” he pointed the leg at Preston, “when I take it off, I am reminded.”  He looked at Iris who sat still, wide-eyed, nearly in tears. “Every time I made love to my wife, I was reminded.”  He sat the leg on the table again. “So, no, Richie, it’s not that easy to just put it all behind me.”

“Take your leg off the table, boy,” Dad said.

Peter snatched his prosthetic limb from the table and bent over to reattach it.  He felt Iris’ hand caress his back consolingly.  He wanted to pull away from her touch, but he couldn’t. It was comforting in a way that he hadn’t expected.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Preston offered. “I don’t know how many times I have to say I’m sorry before you’ll forgive me.”

“I’ll never forgive you.”

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you hurt? Do you think I get some sort of joy out of watching you mourn Amanda anytime you think of me?”

Richard interjected to respond to Peter’s earlier comment. “It wasn’t her… his fault, Peter.”

“You’re right, Richie.  It’s not his fault.  He didn’t know I’d risk my life to save Amanda — to save him, only to wind up losing Amanda after all.  Who could’ve known that I’d lose my leg for nothing?  I might’ve been able to accept wearing a fake leg for the rest of my life if Amanda would’ve at least tried to be happy with herself.  But, that wasn’t what happened, was it Baby?”

Silence.

“We all suspected she hated who she was. That’s why we coddled her and constantly reassured her.  It was inevitable we would lose her.  We all saw the writing on the wall.  And, you saw it, too,” Richard said.

Preston remembered what it was like for Amanda.  Freakishly tall and awkward, no one wanted her.  She was mannish, and preferred hanging with the boys.  Girls didn’t understand her, and boys were confused by her.

“I didn’t know,” Peter said. “And you all hid it from me when it happened.  I had to find out from a colleague.  This was a
family
matter, and I had to learn about it through virtual strangers.”

“You knew.  Maybe you didn’t want to accept it, but you knew.” Richard said.

“Peter knew what?  That she’d commit suicide?” Iris began. “Is that what we’re skirting around? Is that what we’re all talking about here?  How could Peter have known that? Who can predict the actions of someone who was apparently emotionally unstable?”

Peter nodded, seemingly appreciative of Iris’ defense although she didn’t know the whole story.

“He knew because I’d told him,” Preston said to Iris. Then he turned his focus to Peter. “Did you think I’d forgotten? I remember telling you in great detail the torture I felt, and how much I wanted to change who I was.”

“I didn’t know you meant it literally!” Peter shouted.

“Wait. I’m confused,” Iris said.  “I thought we were talking about Amanda’s suicide.  That’s what the big secret is, right?” she said, holding Preston’s hand in hers.

Silence.

“Are you going to tell her?” Peter yelled.

Richard, Mom, Dad, and Peter all looked at Preston.  Ann and John held their focus on Peter, who looked as if he might become violent again.  Audra, Pru, Jess, and Idris listened to the family’s exchange, watching wide-eyed as the drama unfolded.

“Tell me what?” Iris asked. “Peter already told me that Amanda killed herself.”

“And you said nothing was wrong with this family, dear?” Ann said facetiously.

“Are you judging
my
husbands? You. Yes, you,” Iris said, looking at Ann who appeared to be shocked at the tone Iris was taking with her.

“Yes, I am judging them
and
you,” Ann replied.

“I suggest you take a look at your own husband rather than worrying about mine,” she chided.

Audra, sitting next to Pru, dropped her chin to her chest.  Pru reached for her mother’s hand.

“What are you suggesting?” John asked.

“No offense, Mr. Clark. My quarrel is not with you. I meant no disrespect,” Iris offered.

While Iris, Ann and John argued across the table, Peter, Preston, and Richard were still going at it.

With the various arguments crossing the table, obscenities were spewed loudly. The guests at the other tables began paying attention to the commotion.

Preston inhaled deeply and placed his right hand atop Iris’ that was still holding his left.

“Tell her, Baby,” Peter coaxed.

Iris’ focus was back on Preston.  She caressed his ear, trying to soothe him. She saw the anxiety on his face. “Leave him alone, Peter,” she said. “You’re being an ass. Just stop before I spill the beans about
your
life.”

“Well, aren’t you the Wendy Williams of the event tonight,” Ann said sarcastically.

Iris rolled her eyes, returning her focus to Peter.

“What are you talking about, woman?” Peter spat.

“I’m talking about you and your new wife.”

He drew back.

“Yes, I know.  You can put your wedding ring back on. I also know about the baby.”

“A baby?” Mom shouted.

Iris looked at Mrs. Mayweather and nodded, “Yes, a baby.” Then she looked back at Peter.  “You haven’t told your family yet?”

“You knew?” Peter asked, shocked at her knowledge.

“Ray Charles could see that from his grave. Of course, I knew.”

Peter sighed.  Everybody looked at him inquisitively.

“Okay. Yes. I have a new wife and she’s pregnant.  What’s so scandalous about that?”

“You left your pregnant wife at home alone for two weeks? What has gotten into you, Peter?” Mom asked.

“What’s so scandalous?” Iris asked with a laugh. “His new wife happens to be my so-called best friend.  The friend he was sleeping with while we were married. The friend who represented me in the divorce and screwed me out of my fair share of our marital assets. The friend who’s now driving the car that was taken out from under from me in the divorce.”

She looked around the table in sweet satisfaction. She felt so much better now. She actually smiled.

Peter smirked. “Oh, so you want to play
this
game.  I don’t think you want to continue down this road, Iris.”

“You should have thought about that before you started acting holier than thou and judging Preston for something he had no control over whatsoever.”

“Baby, you’d better control your
wife
,” Peter threatened.

“Baby, you need to tell Iris the truth about Amanda,” Richard chimed in.

“What truth about Amanda? What more is there to tell?” Iris inquired rhetorically.

Preston looked around the table then dropped his head.  All eyes were on him.  He faced Iris, looking her square in the eyes.  He hated to say the words.  He swallowed hard, smoothed Iris’ hair behind her ear, and watched her lean into his touch.  He mouthed the words
I love you,
then spilled it.

“I’m Amanda,” he said as his voice trailed off.

Silence fell upon the room like an anvil — harsh, sudden, impenetrable. The air became so heavy, Iris could hardly breathe. The words landed squarely in her heart, weighted by what she’d just heard. It was unmistakable, yet, she had to have misunderstood. It couldn’t have been… it had to have been a mistake — a misunderstanding. A blooper. An oops. Even a Freudian slip.

But all eyes were on her as she sat, wounded by the confession that was propelled at her like a drone striking its target. She felt a million tiny explosions happening within her all at once.

Then…

“Oh my God,” Jess said.

Ann and John gasped nearly simultaneously.

“You people!” Ann exclaimed.  “See John,
this
is the kind of family our granddaughters are influenced by. They’ll corrupt them for sure.”

“Shut the hell up, Ann, as if you’ve led a life beyond reproach,” Audra said.

John shushed Ann, shaking his head to convey to her that this wasn’t the time for her judgmental behavior.

Idris leaned back in his seat, blown back by the revelation.  He looked as if he was about to say something, but instead poured more champagne in his flute.  He watched his sister’s expression for a moment then leaned towards Jess and asked, “Do they have anything stronger to drink?”

Jess shrugged, more interested in what was about to happen.

“What? What are you talking about?”  Iris looked around the table and noticed the Mayweather clan nodding, affirming what she just heard.

Jess sat her fork on her plate and whispered in Prudence’s ear, “You should have sold tickets to this show.”

Pru elbowed her disapprovingly.

“How? What? I — I don’t understand what you just said to me,” Iris stuttered.

“Let me see if I can make it a little clearer for you, sweetheart. You’re fucking my baby sister,” Peter lambasted.

“Peter! Watch your language,” Mom demanded.

Dad shot a scornful expression at Peter.

Iris snatched her hand from Preston’s and pushed sharply away from the table.  When she stood, her napkin fell from her lap to the floor.

“Somebody please tell me what the hell is going on!” she screamed, tears streaming down her face, her body trembling. Her knees buckling. “This can’t be. This can’t be happening!”

“Please, sit down. Let me explain,” Preston said gingerly.

“Why are you doing this to me, Preston? Why?” Iris repeated over and over again.

“Yes, explain,” Idris said, talking over his sister’s hysteria, clearly unhappy that Preston had made a mockery of her.

“Eight years ago, I began gender reassignment surgery, shortly after leaving the Air Force.  The woman in that picture you found, yesterday? That was me.”

Iris sat down.  It was nearly an involuntary action.  Her legs seemed to have given out. Her entire body had gone limp.  Her heart that was filled with so much love for Preston felt like it was now in a vise and being compressed.

Iris looked around the table.  Richard was consoling Mom, Dad sat with his arms folded, shaking his head at Peter, who had covered his face with his hands trying to calm himself.

“You just couldn’t let it go, could you, Peter?” Dad admonished.

Utter silence. If a pin had been dropped, it would have sounded like cymbals crashing together.  All eyes turned to Dad as he continued.

“You lost your leg because you saved your sister.  You saved her! Do you get that, boy? Every time I see you limp, I’m reminded that you, my son, are a hero. You risked your life and lost your leg to save your sister from drowning in that frozen pond.  You did that.  When that ice broke and Amanda fell in, you risked your life to save her. I’m proud of you for that. We’d neither have Amanda nor Preston today if it weren’t for you.  Your prosthetic leg should be a badge of honor. When you look at your missing limb, you should feel proud.” Dad paused, clearly emotional.  “If you ask me, I think Amanda felt so much guilt for you losing your leg, it was the impetus for her to become who she felt she really was.  Was it easy to accept? Of course not. But I love her and I accept her decision.  Now I accept her as Preston — the man, my son. If I can do that, so can you.”

More silence.

Preston looked up at Dad then at Peter, who seemed to have shrunk a little.

“I don’t know if I can ever accept it,” Mom said, slowly but emphatically.  “You were the girl God gave me and you took her away.  Sometimes, it’s hard to look at you,” she said, dabbing the tears that wouldn’t stop flowing.  “Who’s going to love you now – now that you’ve done this to yourself?”

Dad’s face went red as emotion washed over him.

Peter could no longer look at Dad without misting up.  The lump in his throat grew harder as he tried hard to hold back his emotions.  He looked at Preston who had tears streaming down his cheeks, his lips quivered.

“I love you, Dad, but you’re wrong,” Peter said.  “I didn’t save my sister. My sister died.  You can accept Baby as your son, but I will never accept him as my brother. That person,” he said, pointing at Preston, “was my sister. I don’t know any other way to think of her — him, whatever.”

“You’re angry, Peter, because I didn’t stay the same.  We used to be so close, you and me, when I was Amanda.”

Peter nodded, evidently pained by the acknowledgment.

Preston went on, “But this is my truth, the real me.  I
am
Preston. I have always been Preston.  I know you loved Amanda.  All of you did. I get it.  I’m so sorry I took her from you.  But I had to do this for me. I had the wrong body, the wrong anatomy.  But underneath this body is the same spirit I’ve always been. I knew I was risking our relationship — my relationship with all of you — when I decided to have the surgery.  But I needed to be who I am. I was a man trapped in a woman’s body.  I was…”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Peter interrupted. “This woman right here,” he pointed at Iris, “my wife…”

“Ex-wife,” Iris interjected.

“She’s a full-blooded woman who needs a man, not some woman who decided she was a man.”

“She has a man. I
am
a man. All eleven inches of me.”

Jess looked at Pru and mouthed “
Eleven
inches? Wow.”

Pru jabbed her in the arm.

“Now that’s enough!” Mom yelled.  “That’s enough. Both of you. Just stop it. Stop!”

Dad comforted Mom who was obviously distressed by it all.

“Mom, I know you never accepted any of this and probably never will. I know that you and Peter are in agreement.  But what you can’t see — or what you don’t want to see — is that I have a right to be this way. I’m not going to apologize anymore for being who I am.  And you shouldn’t want me to be anything other than what I am.  I don’t want to pretend anymore.  I don’t want to be attacked and maligned because people are confused by me.  I
am
Preston Roberts. I
am
a man. I always have been intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually
male
.”

“That’s the tragedy,” Mom began.  “You wanted to be like your brothers, that’s all. You could do that and still be Amanda, but you chose not to.  Now, look at you. You’ve mutilated your body.”

“No, I corrected my body, Mom. Now I have the right body, and I finally found the right woman for me, and I pray I haven’t lost her,” he said, looking at Iris.

“You’re not male,” Iris said apprehensively. “You are and always will be XX not XY. You can’t change your chromosomal make up.  You were born XX not XY.  You don’t have the Y chromosome.”

“That may be a blessing,” Jess mumbled — but everybody heard her.

Iris continued, “You didn’t have the right to trick me into loving you — into thinking you were a man.  I can’t believe I’ve fallen in love with a woman,” she cried. “Oh my God, I married a woman!” she screamed.

The other guests were gawking.  John decided to dismiss them and thanked them for coming.  He’d later have to pay off the few journalists in attendance for their silence.

“I’m sorry, Iris. I wasn’t trying to trick you.  That’s not at all what I was doing,” he said, reaching out to her.

She pulled away from him harshly. She gagged and ran towards the bathroom, barely making it there before her dinner made its way up and out.  Idris, Preston, and Peter got up to follow her, but Pru waved them off as she and Jess ran after her.